Clara
The smell of cleanliness has always seemed strange to me. As if everything that enters a clinic has to be stripped of its humanity in order to be treated.
I'm sitting on the examination table, my hands clasped in my lap, looking around the office. Everything is white, tidy, perfect. As if things always turn out well here.
The doctor is reviewing some papers in front of me. She turns the pages calmly, without haste, and that makes me more nervous than I'd like to admit.
"Well, Clara… I have all your husband's results."
I swallow.
"And…?"
She looks up and smiles. In that instant, I feel something inside me loosen.
"Everything is fine."
I had already received mine, and everything was wonderful; only he, Ethan, was missing.
I blink, processing.
"Really?"
"Yes. Everything is
